This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

GOP hypocrisy: It’s only ‘pork’ when federal spending is in other districts
You’re not going to understand me as I want to be understood
How can we be lonely while we’re surrounded by billions of people?
The moon represents what I seek, but words are all I can offer now
Everybody has times when he needs someone to save his life
2-day-old baby reminds me that miracles still happen every day
Just underneath a civilized veneer, savage conqueror lives in my DNA